I’ll be the first to admit it: I am not a pea person.
Never have been. Childhood dinners at my mother’s table taught me that peas were something you politely pushed around your plate, not something you savored. But my beau loves them, so this spring I decided to grow a small batch in the garden - mostly for him, not for me.
Well, today was harvest day. I picked those plump little pods, opened one out of curiosity, and popped a pea into my mouth. And let me tell you… DELICIOUS. Sweet, crisp, bright - nothing like the peas of my past. It turns out there are many varieties of peas, and the one I chose is apparently the one my taste buds have been waiting for all these years. Note to self: plant this exact variety again.
As I stood there snacking straight from the vine, it struck me how much this mirrors real estate. People often think a house is a house - just like peas are peas - until they discover the right variety for them. Maybe it’s a cozy Cape in Bellingham, a classic Colonial in Medway, or a condo in Milford with zero yardwork. Suddenly, something they never thought they’d love becomes the perfect fit.
In a state where every town has its own personality, school system, tax rate, and architectural flavor, finding the right “variety” matters. When you do, everything clicks - just like my peas.
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